When he was growing up, his mama said, “Malcolm Jonas Reynolds, you better start countin’ to ten before you speak, or one day you’re gonna wind up on the business end of some nice girl’s gun.” Why was it that he only heard her advice in his head after talking to Inara, instead of before?

Mal walked down the street with his hands tucked into his pockets, whistling. He was most assuredly not walking so quickly because he was running away from anyone. And no way, no how was the brown coat he was wearing any kind of security blanket.